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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27151376">Star Wars -- Wayfaring Strangers</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vumanchu/pseuds/Vumanchu'>Vumanchu</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: Rebels</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Gen</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 22:40:59</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>10,531</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27151376</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vumanchu/pseuds/Vumanchu</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The Imperial Army! The bulwark of the Galactic Empire and the instrument of Palpatine's apparatus on thousands of worlds! One unit in particular, the 3rd Siege Regiment, stands out as the best Urban Warfare units in the Army. Aggressive, loyal, and well-trained just under the Stormtrooper Corps, their new orders have just arrived.<br/>Patrol the Lothal Sector. Put down any signs of Rebellion, whatever the cost!<br/>Section B1C is on patrol right now, let us wish them the best of luck!</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Section B1C</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b>Chapter 1: Section B1C</b>
</p><p> </p><p>Thirteen years ago, with the Clone Wars in its final stages, Chancellor Sheev Palpatine declared a New Galactic Order based upon the principles of safety, security, justice, and peace. To this day, he has failed to uphold his end of the bargain. With criminal activity on the rise and smuggling becoming a particularly lucrative choice of employment—now Emperor—Palpatine relies upon his Grand Imperial Army as his instrument of choice against those that oppose his rule. The Imperial Army Troopers are his primary bulwark of choice against these anarchists, his Stormtroopers the scalpel. As Imperial policy dictates, no human is useless in his army.</p><p> </p><p>Specialist Rice Dalle likes to snort at that statement, knowing full well how Emperor Palpatine’s reliance on fear, intimidation, and force can only go so far. He was sitting in the ruins of what was the main lobby of an apartment complex, enjoying the rain that poured into the rubble-filled streets. Rice reached into his pocket, opening the silver cigarette container and lighting up a roll. The Specialist wasn’t an old man, though he certainly felt like it. In fact his own Sergeant would claim he’s older than <em>him </em>if he kept up that attitude.</p><p> </p><p>No, the young Imperial Army Trooper was an enigma, plain and simple. Is he an ISB Agent testing their loyalties, or is he genuine in his beliefs? Is he mentally unstable, or does he uses it to hide his genius? Is he even from Corellia? No one knows for sure, and Rice liked to keep it that way. He let out a puff, smoke floating into the skies to join its brethren. He bemoaned, “Wish you fellas were here right now.”</p><p> </p><p>For the past nine days, the sound of blaster fire and explosions had become the norm for the once prosperous Outer-Rim city. When the residents rose up, it caught everyone off guard.Rice had a little sneaky feeling that somebody might have got a little enthusiastic with the electro-whips and pissed off one too many workers. According to intelligence reports, they were facing a largely Human and Twi’lek insurgency, and they were heavily armed.</p><p> </p><p>In the end, the Imperial Army was successful in suppressing yet another rebellion after they called upon the 3rd Siege Regiment to help break the siege. Turns out, smug as Lieutenant-Colonel Jado Drimen is, he really knew how to twist his superior’s arms and have things put in his favour. Admittedly, Rice was sorta impressed by his cut-throat politics. Unfortunately, that means the <em>Discount Stormtroopers</em> are to be deployed to suppress the raging rebels.Morale was high at first, the men were confident in their total victory without losses, and some joked around in general. The Specialist joined in too, at least to calm his own nerves. At the end of it all, well, there was a whole lot less cheer to spread.</p><p> </p><p>His Section—Section B1C—had seen the bitterest of fighting, spending nine days of constant street fighting, stronghold defending, and mouse-holing to achieve their <em>glorious</em> victory. Rice grimaced, tearing away his eyes to avoid the street. The Specialist tried to control his breathing, the bodies of his fallen being lined up by Army Medics. “I wonder if we’re just cursed in general.” He bemoaned, finding a considerably heavy object rest upon his shoulder.</p><p> </p><p>A soft smile reached his lips, seeing his senior—Corporal Nyra Brenda—getting some much needed sleep. He snuffed his fag, admiring Nyra’s tanned Amazonian body, purple tribal tattoos, and maroon hair. It didn’t matter if she had scarring over her toned abs, he’ll fall in love with it time-and-again. The Specialist did figure he’d have to remind himself to wake up before his Sergeant—Horo Melne—came back to ask for reinforcements to tie up his flanks. The old man had a thing for the regulations and decency.</p><p> </p><p>‘One look at Nyra and we might need a new Sarge.’The Specialist joked, ‘Come to think of it, the others would start ogling her too.”</p><p> </p><p>He wasn’t wrong. Nyra Brenda came from Wild Space, a planet she liked to call Femiskira. From what Rice gathered, her people lacked the luxuries that were common in the Empire and been constantly assailed by pirates. Funny thing about it, she had a particular affection for hunting down pirates and ‘traitors’ as she called them. He quietly joked, “No wonder she’s a Corporal. Crazy and dedicated.”</p><p> </p><p>He had his own reasons to join the Empire—something he’d rather not discuss—but when the Empire came to induct her planet, her people enlisted in droves. Rice liked her well enough. Noble goals and a heart to do good. He shook his head, pitying her somewhat on the many times she prayed to her tribal deities partly undressed. True, he wasn’t a fan of the standard-issued light grey jumpsuit, helmet, and goggles. The armour and other gear that denotes them as Discount Stormtroopers are one that he does appreciates. The plastoid green-grey breastplate, forearm, shin armour, leather full-cranial hat, and gas masks gives him a considerable deal of protection against blaster fire and it does keeps his ears warm.</p><p> </p><p>Specialist Dalle decided to join her, ripping the gas mask off its press-studs from the leather full-cranial hat. He laid it on the once immaculate floor, laying his head on Nyra’s.</p><p> </p><p>The Tribal Corporal complained, her Basic heavily accented, “You’re too heavy.” Rice hummed, taking some pressure off her, allowing Nyra to whine, “It’s so~ hot.”</p><p> </p><p>He muttered, “I’ll ask the Sarge to requisition those Stormtrooper Body Gloves.”</p><p> </p><p>“I would like that.” She hummed in appreciation. Nyra added, playfully warningly, “Don’t you dare think about trying to use those cowardly tactics. I know how you like to sow friction and strife against our Allies in our sister services.”</p><p> </p><p>Rice protested, “In my defence, they were asking for it.”</p><p> </p><p>Nyra sighed, a small smile on her face. “I suppose.” The Corporal admitted, “I still must thank you for convincing these…High Commanders…to allow me to keep my personal belongings. You have no idea how much it means to me to be allowed to keep them.”</p><p> </p><p>“No need Nyra, whatever are friends for, right?”</p><p> </p><p>The Corporal lamented, “I only wished there are more warriors like you.”</p><p> </p><p>The Specialist snorted, “Please, you know I’m only in it for the money.”</p><p> </p><p>The 3rd Siege Regiment is hated by the regular Imperial Army for ‘failing upwards’ and are ridiculed by the Stormtrooper Corps for being failures in general. It wasn’t fair but it wasn’t exactly their fault. Hell, he couldn’t even fault Lieutenant-Colonel Jado Drimen, seeing as he was supposedly assigned to make this regiment.</p><p> </p><p>Sergeant Horo Melne returned and paused to see his two remaining squad members. The old man grumbled under his breath and continued on, lightly tapping the Specialist’s shoulder.</p><p> </p><p>He whispered, “Wake her up and get her dressed. We’re moving out.”</p><p> </p><p>“What’s our heading boss?” He queried, shaking Nyra up, watching the tribal girl reach for her gear, “We’re beyond breaking point and I’m not exactly keen on going through this mess again.”</p><p> </p><p>Horo shook his head, admitting, “I don’t know the full details myself. According to Lieutenant-Colonel Drimen, the 3rd Siege Regiment is assigned to anti-piracy duties around Lothal. Apparently, Governor Pryce has specifically requested our presence to support the Stormtrooper Garrison there.”</p><p> </p><p>“Our Section isn’t exactly at full strength and I’d rather not die Sarge.” Rice pointed out, helping Nyra attach her armour on.</p><p> </p><p>The Sergeant replied, “I know that, but we don’t have any choice. From what I know, the Lieutenant-Colonel is assigning us to patrol duties in the Capital City. Easy task, or so I heard.”</p><p> </p><p>Nyra rolled her shoulder, stating, “Well, we best not delay any further.”</p><p> </p><p>Horo marches out and Rice sighed, shaking his head. Nyra insisted, “Come, chin up warrior. We have pirates to hunt down!”</p><p> </p><p>He went through the motions, sitting in one of the shuttle’s seats. He stared out the entrance, staring into the godforsaken city. His breathing hitched, his fingers curling on the seat and squeezing tightly. A heavy hand rested on his shoulder. Horo said, “Breath. You gotta breath son.”</p><p> </p><p>“Sorry sir.” He replied, “Just…what a waste of lives.”</p><p> </p><p>The Sergeant snorted, “You’re telling me. We don’t have a choice Rice.”</p><p> </p><p>The Specialist retorted, “It wouldn’t have happened if that greedy bastard decided to crack the electro-whip.”</p><p> </p><p>“You don’t say.” He snorted, “Well, I can’t say your wrong son, but what’s done is done and last I heard, the governor has been dismissed for his part.”</p><p> </p><p>“Wait…what, they can do that?” Rice exclaimed, quite surprised at the news. Horo nodded, forcing the Specialist to sit.</p><p> </p><p>Nyra growled, “This governor gets what he deserved. He’s no different than pirates.”</p><p> </p><p>The Specialist shrugged, resting into the seat. “I wouldn’t go that far.” He muttered, “Politician’s a politician. I ain’t surprise.”</p><p> </p><p>Nyra protested, “That isn’t true! My planet’s first governor cares for us and is the most honest man I know!”</p><p> </p><p>“That’s…surprising.” Rice admitted, wincing, “Huh…wasn’t expecting that.”</p><p> </p><p>Nyra said, “I’m sorry you have such an awful man guiding you. I am certain he will be brought to justice swiftly.”</p><p> </p><p>He chuckled, stating, “Sure, sure.”</p><p> </p><p>She tilted her head, wondering what he meant. Her attempts to question further, but found her inquiries unheard, seeing him sleeping. She sighed, commenting, “Honestly…these so-called Core Worlders are such slobs.”</p><p> </p><p>Sergeant Horo Melne quietly snorted, taking his goggles off and sleeping.</p><p> </p><p>——— Wayfaring Stranger———</p><p> </p><p>Rice winced, extrapolating that things on Lothal, have become more desperate than anticipated. While other platoons have been dispatched to other sectors and on Star Destroyers, Section B1C are assigned patrol patterns in the Capital City. The Lieutenant-Colonel even addressed them personally, stating that Governor Pryce wishes to use Lothalites to strengthen the Section. He growled, “This has got to be the worst idea I’ve ever heard!”</p><p> </p><p>“Stop whining Specialist.” Horo growled, “I don’t like it either but what more can we do?”</p><p> </p><p>Nyra added, “We must give all warriors a chance to prove their mettle.”</p><p> </p><p>Rice muttered, shaking his head, “Yeah, yeah, whatever.”</p><p> </p><p>The Specialist noticed a farmer’s market, selling fruit. He broke ranks, approaching the stand. This didn’t get unnoticed by the farmer, who cowered slightly. Rice shouldered his DLT-19 Heavy Blaster Rifle and sampled a Jogan fruit. He asked, “How much?”</p><p> </p><p>“E-Excuse me?” The farmer sputtered, a little shocked.</p><p> </p><p>He reiterated, taking off the gas mask so it hands off to one side, “How much for a Jogan fruit?”</p><p> </p><p>“Err…” The farmer muttered, “Three credits.”</p><p> </p><p>Rice laid out nine credit chips, taking three and walking to his waiting Sergeant and Corporal. Nyra looked amused, hands resting on her waist. Horo was a little exasperated but let it down, catching a Jogan from his subordinate. He said, “Next time, tell me when you break ranks.”</p><p> </p><p>“Sure thing old man.” He teased, “Want me to buy a walking stick for you?”</p><p> </p><p>The Sergeant lightly punched his shoulder, grouchily saying, “Call me Grandpa, and I’ll kill you.”</p><p> </p><p>Nyra playfully took a Jogan fruit and bit into it, cheering, “Come, come. We got more streets to visit.”</p><p> </p><p>“H-Hey Mister,” A kid pushed through, dressed in an orange jumpsuit, “Spare a credit?”</p><p> </p><p>Rice gave the poor kid twenty credits, patting his shoulder. Nyra whispered, “That was nice of you.”</p><p> </p><p>He shrugged, saying, “The kid spoke to me. Know what it’s like to be poor and alone.”</p><p> </p><p>Horo, surprised, wondered, “You were a street rat?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah.” Rice admitted, “Look, I don’t want to talk about it.”</p><p> </p><p>Nyra queried, “What is…a street rat?”</p><p> </p><p>Rice spoke up, stating, “A street rat is basically a homeless kid who lives on the street. Forced to take what they can and give nothing back. Like I said, he spoke to me.”</p><p> </p><p>His eyes narrowed behind the goggles. He took them off and checked his back pocket. He snickered, “I love these jumpsuits, zippers held up.”</p><p> </p><p>“This isn’t right.” She bemoaned, “Why does the Governor not do anything for her own people?”</p><p> </p><p>Rice wondered, “Does your governor do anything for your people?”</p><p> </p><p>The Corporal confirmed, “Of course. My father is responsible for Femiskira and rules justly, from our traditions.”</p><p> </p><p>“Heh.” He muttered, eyes widened, “More than what I’m expecting.”</p><p> </p><p>Horo asked, “I thought Corellia was pretty well off.”</p><p> </p><p>Rice snorted, but didn’t say anything more.</p><p> </p><p>Blaster fire echoed through the air. Horo attached his mask, throwing the Jogan. “Action stations!” He guttered through the mask. Nyra threw her fruit away, twirling a tomahawk in her left hand and armed with the E-11 Blaster Rifle. Rice put his mask on, ready with the DLT-19. The trio charged through the streets, pushing past pedestrians and reaching the alleyway.</p><p> </p><p>Stormtroopers and Scout Troopers were exchanging fire with a Lasat, a girl in Mandalorian Armour, and some guy in a pony tail. Fortunately, they were on the flank. Sergeant Melne nodded at Rice, who set up shop. He fired a blast of automatic blaster fire at the three-man team. The Lasat shouted, “Watch out!”</p><p> </p><p>Horo and Nyra charged forward, ready for the skirmish. Nyra laughed, rather mischievously, and threw her tomahawk, the armoured girl narrowly dodging the flying hatchet. Horo slid behind the makeshift cover, firing at the man with the ponytail and the Lasat. The Specialist took it as his time to move up. He set up the heavy blaster again, joining some Stormtroopers. He witnessed Nyra charging the Lasat, after retrieving her tomahawk, and engaging him in hand-to-hand. Typical.</p><p> </p><p>The Stormtrooper Sergeant took positions beside him, tapping his helmet and pointing at the girl. Rice corrected his fire, pinning the girl who happened to be on the roof top. He wondered, “How the hell did she get up there?”</p><p> </p><p>Nyra’s body flew into the Specialist’s cover, her arm draped over the heavy blaster. She laughed, getting back up. She tore a water pipe off it’s rusty hinges and charged the alien again. The Wild Space Tribal engaged, locking their staves into one another. The Corporal grunted, “You’re good, alien. I am Corporal Nyra Brenda of the Imperial Army. Before you meet your demise, I ask for your name warrior?”</p><p> </p><p>“The name’s Zeb.” He grunted, throwing Nyra off and creating space, “And if you think I’m going to let some Imp take me down…”</p><p> </p><p>Zeb roared, “Just try me!”</p><p> </p><p>Sergeant Melne huffed, trading fire at relatively close range. He took cover, staring at the Stormtrooper. He barked, “What kinda Stormtroopers are you! Forward!” Slowly, but surely, the group marched forward.</p><p> </p><p>“Spectre-5, Spectre-4! Pull out!” Shouted the suspected pirate, slowly pulling back. Horo broke cover, but a blaster bolt catching his armour and throwing him to the ground. Rice pushed grumbled, breaking his cover and slowly marching fire. He took a knee besides his Sergeant. “You still with me grandpa?”</p><p> </p><p>Horo snarled, “I’ll kriffing kill you Specialist!”</p><p> </p><p>Rice paused firing, extending a hand. Horo took it, grabbing his E-11 and joining the other Stormtroopers to push these ‘spectres’ back. Rice scanned, attempting to track down thewayfaring Corporal. He spotted her and the Lasat down the main street causing who knows what kinda havoc. The Specialist alerted, “I’m going to assist Nyra. She’s pinned by that rare hairless Wookie!”</p><p> </p><p>The Sergeant nodded. “Go. We can handle things here.”</p><p> </p><p>Nyra was on the back foot of her duel, as her strikes were increasingly becoming ineffective and Zeb was dominating her. He rammed the electro-lance into the tribal’s gut, forcing her to drop to her knees.</p><p> </p><p>“Hey pal!”</p><p> </p><p>Zeb swiftly turned to face his aggressor. Unfortunately, all he saw was the DLT-19 Heavy Blaster Rifle thrown towards him. Instinctively, he caught it, leaving him open for a drop kick into the Lasat’s gut. He collapsed on his knees, allowing Specialist Dalle to lock the purple-furred alien in a headlock. He bellowed a war cry, tumbling into a building corner back first. Rice yelped in pain, his hold loosening up. Zeb took the chance to grab the Imperial Army Trooper Specialist’s arms and threw the offender at Nyra, who was just recovering.</p><p> </p><p>Nyra grunted, the additional weight notwithstanding. She unceremoniously threw Rice off and made to pursue, whispering a light apology. Horo exited the alleyway, pointing towards the Lasat. “After him!” He barked, the Stormtrooper squad trying to catch up. Sergeant Melne took a knee and helped his Specialist up. “You okay son?”</p><p> </p><p>Rice grunted, “Should be fine.”</p><p> </p><p>“Good.” He said, slapping the young man’s back, “I already contacted command. Cordon the alleyway until reinforcements arrive.”</p><p> </p><p>Rice saluted, shouldering the heavy blaster…and started scavenging parts from Stormtroopers. Horo sighed, looking up to find a Corellian ship, a VCX-100 Light Freighter zip through the skies with TIE fighters in pursuit.</p><p> </p><p>——— Wayfaring Stranger———</p><p> </p><p>Section B1C glared at the recruits training at the Lothal Imperial Academy with disdain. Horo in particular saw it as the worst training he has ever seen. The very idea that young recruits are taught to be aggressive against themselves was too reprehensible to the old war dog. He had already began recording the training session and sending details of it to Jado. Rice shook his head at the display in general and pulled out his deck of cards and started teaching Nyra the intricacies of Sabacc.</p><p> </p><p>“What is this?!” Commandant Aresko demanded, staring at Rice, who paid him no mind. Instead, he continued on teaching Nyra. Horo saw this and said, “I’ll reprimand my Specialist Commandant.”</p><p> </p><p>Unfortunately, Aresko wasn’t having it and demanded, “You! Specialist! What is your operating number!”</p><p> </p><p>“<em>Halle metes chun, petchuck</em>.” He grumbled under his breath. He answered, “It’s IAT-213. My regimental commander is Lieutenant-Colonel Jado Drimen. Am I dismissed, sir?”</p><p> </p><p>Commandant barked, “Stormtroopers! Throw this insubordinate trooper and his partner to the brig! We shall deal with him later!”</p><p> </p><p>Rice snarled, pointing a finger at the Commandant, “Now look here Commandant, I don’t care what you do to me but she got nothing to do with this.”</p><p> </p><p>“Do not make this worst on yourself Specialist.” He said, a smug grin on his skeletal skull.</p><p> </p><p>Horo rested a hand on Rice’s shoulder and shook his head. Rice guttered, “Skrag osk’y.”</p><p> </p><p>The two stormtroopers put both Rice and Nyra in binders and led them to the cells. Rice growled, “Hey, how about you put does damn things on properly!”</p><p> </p><p>The Stormtrooper hit the back of his head. “Silence, prisoner!”</p><p> </p><p>Rice broke out of the cuffs and knocked out his assailant. Nyra did much the same, catching her stormtrooper’s head by her thighs and squeezing him until unconsciousness. Rice wondered, “How in the hell does anything get done around here?!”</p><p> </p><p>“Usually, it’s through strength in numbers, Specialist.”</p><p> </p><p>Nyra and Rice twirled to face an Imperial officer. She had blonde hair tied into a bun and dressed smartly in her grey uniform. The barrel of her RK-3 blaster were levelled at the two of them. Rice noticed it was on ‘safe’ but played along. He sighed, stating, “I warned them.”</p><p> </p><p>The Femiskiran added, “They also failed to maintain proper distancing and failed in close combat against unarmed prisoners.”</p><p> </p><p>“Both of you are not wrong, unfortunately.” The officer winced, holstering her sidearm. She introduced herself, “Agent Tyla Finnall, Imperial Security Bureau.”</p><p> </p><p>“Imperial Security Bureau?” Nyra asked, a little confused. Rice explained, “Officially, they are the intergalactic Law Enforcement Arm of the galaxy, keeping Imperial Law and whatnot. Unofficially, they are spies that nose around innocent people’s privacy.”</p><p>Tyla laughed, stating, “You give us too much infamy Specialist Dalle, despite your attempts to finding and eliminating our bugs in your helmets.”</p><p> </p><p>Rice said, “Why aren’t I surprised. Who’s helmet did I forget?”</p><p> </p><p>Tyla smirked, admitting, “We caught you on the cameras. Thanks for returning them by the way, they do cost us quite a bit.”</p><p> </p><p>Nyra tilted her head, asking, “Bugs? You put bugs in our helmets? Is this some prank?”</p><p> </p><p>The Specialist said, “It’s to ensure our loyalty. They mainly do it on Stormtroopers. If I were to guess, since we’re gaining prominence, they started putting them on us too.”</p><p> </p><p>“Bingo!” She cheered, hands resting behind her back, “Please note, Specialist Dalle, that we at the ISB are quite forgiving, since your loyalties are clearly to the 3rd Siege Regiment. I presume it is due to your past, you feel the need to stay with us. Is that correct?”</p><p> </p><p>Rice grimaced turning away. Nyra moved to protest, but the ISB Agent continued, positioning herself in front of Rice, “I am well aware of your less than enthusiastic stance against our Emperor and the Empire in general but we choose to ignore them, for now.”</p><p> </p><p>“I got nothing to say to you.”</p><p> </p><p>“Perhaps not. Your Corporal Nyra however, she is a puzzle I have yet to uncover. Then again, it is only a matter of time before I learn more about her, being from Wild Space and whatnot.” Tyla said, a good-natured chuckled emanating her hum. “You may return to your Sergeant, I shall follow.”</p><p> </p><p>Rice rolled his eyes. “Like we would have been kept there forever.” He said, “The Lieutenant-Colonel wouldn’t have allowed it.”</p><p> </p><p>Tyla rose an eyebrow, an amused smile on her face. Nyra was also confused, asking, “What makes you say such a thing Rice?”</p><p> </p><p>He answered, “The 3rd Siege is at breaking point. He can’t afford to keep us in the brig for long-er than he’d like.”</p><p> </p><p>“Perhaps, perhaps not.” She said, smile never leaving her face. “I believe I may ask for Section B1C’s assistance sometime soon.”</p><p> </p><p>Nyra said, “I must protest-“</p><p> </p><p>“You’ll be able to fight pirates sooner.”</p><p> </p><p>“…Rice, perhaps we should consider the merits of working with ISB Agent Tyla.”</p><p> </p><p>Rice grumbled, “You know just what buttons to push, don’t you Agent?”</p><p> </p><p>“Indeed I do.” She said, patting his shoulder, “Now then, I have a mission in mind for Section B1C.”</p><p> </p><p>Nyra said, “You have to talk with Sergeant Horo, he is our hunt leader.”</p><p> </p><p>“Section Leader.” Rice corrected.</p><p> </p><p>Tyla released Rice and embraced Nyra, clearly honeying her words, “Oh, you and I are going to be the best of friends! Specialist, carry the bodies, I must reprimand Commandant Aresko and Taskmaster Grint for training incompetent troopers.”</p><p> </p><p>“Ofax ets burrin tehn.” He muttered, following close behind. They arrived at the training pit, finding Commandant Aresko still belittling a unfazed Sergeant Melne. Rice throws the stormtrooper bodies at the Commandant and the Taskmaster. Agent Tyla shouted, “Commandant Cumberlyne Aresko! May I ask what you are doing?”</p><p> </p><p>Aresko saluted, the smug look dropping. He answered, “Well, you see Agent Finnall, I was just reprimanding Sergeant Melne for his incom-“</p><p> </p><p>“Shut up Aresko.”</p><p> </p><p>“Y-Yes ma’am.”</p><p> </p><p>Tyla let out a heavy huff. She approached Horo, extending a hand. “Agent Tyla Finnall, Imperial Security Bureau. Sergeant Melne, I would like to request the assistance of Section B1C-“<br/>
<br/>
“Of course Agent!” Aresko shouted, “You’ll-“</p><p> </p><p>Tyla admonishing at the top of her lungs, “NOT YOUR TROOPERS, COMMANDANT! SERGEANT MELNE’S TROOPERS!”</p><p> </p><p>Commandant Aresko winced, slowly walking away. Tyla relaxed her breathing. She said, “Now, since we are finally able to talk properly, I have need of your Section. I will send a request to Lieutenant-Colonel Drimen, of course, but this operation requires…skill.”</p><p> </p><p>Aresko protested, “But ma’am, we have plenty of loyal Stormtroopers that can fulfill your needs! Much more reliable than the regular army!”</p><p> </p><p>Tyla’s eyes narrowed, calmly marching up to the Commandant. Rice noted just how petite the young ISB Agent is. She can’t be taller than 1.65 metres yet it seems like her aura was enough to overwhelm Aresko to almost trip over his feet. She quietly murmured into his ear, and he backed down just like that. Rice commented, “Anyone ever tell you, you’re scary and cute?”</p><p> </p><p>The ISB Agents muttered, “Scary, yes. Cute, no. Do you have a fetish for this kinds of things?”</p><p> </p><p>“I plead the fifth.”</p><p> </p><p>Tyla corrected, “It’s the seventh. The fifth is to protect people from having bails or fines set at an amount so high that it would be improbably for all but the richest defendants to pay and also protects people from being subjected to cruel and unusual punishment.”</p><p> </p><p>Rice retorted, “You do a snot job at it then.”</p><p> </p><p>The ISB Agent rolled her eyes.</p><p> </p><p>——— Wayfaring Stranger———</p><p> </p><p>Rice played with the DLT-19 a little bit, readying for the operation. He got it modified with a better carry handle for better hip-fire control. He turned to Nyra who was allowed to use her ‘ceremonial’ staff. Rice snorted at the name. There was absolutely nothing ceremonial about it! The wooden pole had evident scorch marks at the tip, where there is a metal choke on the top. It appears to be also collapsible for ease of carry. At the moment, the Femiskiran native was pumping Tibanna gas into a chamber. Horo was content with his current load out, relaxing in his seat. ISB Agent Tyla Finnall was in her battle dress uniform, content to let them do what they want, staring at the datapad.</p><p> </p><p>Rice asked, “Hey, Tyla. Question, what are we up to? Spice raid? Slave raiding?”</p><p> </p><p>Tyla answered, “We are liberating slaves, then again, you don’t quite believe that, do you?”</p><p> </p><p>“Not really, no.” He whispered, attempting to peak at the pad. “In all honesty, I’ve seen a lot of Imperial Slaves before. You know and I know that it ain’t right.”</p><p> </p><p>She looked away, staring at the drop ship doors. “Just do your duty Specialist, all will be right.”</p><p> </p><p>He shook his head and readied his weapon.</p><p> </p><p>A red light lit the passenger cabin. Thirty seconds. Rice lightly tapped Nyra’s and Horo’s feet and leaned against the door, ready to act as the door gunner. The Corporal, Sergeant, and ISB Agent readied to rush out the other door. Rice said, “How many targets we looking at down there?”</p><p> </p><p>Tyla said, “Intelligence suggests thirty. Just remember your training and all will be right.”</p><p> </p><p>Green light. The doors opened and the Specialist aimed the heavy blaster out. There were several Trandoshans and Zygerrians running to get inside. The Agent shouted, “Open fire!”</p><p> </p><p>Rice fired blaster bolts down range, catching a number of slavers. The LAAT/le started slowing on approach, landing. Rice continued firing at the suspect building. Horo and Nyra made a beeline to the backdoor. Tyla patted Rice’s shoulder, gesturing for the door. He dismounted, Tyla pushing the DLT-19 away and handing him the smaller E-11 Blaster Rifle. The Agent ordered, “Get ready. Two story building. Our job is to clear the second floor.”</p><p> </p><p>“What about the hostages?”</p><p> </p><p>“Secondary. Slavers first.”</p><p> </p><p>Rice muttered, “Roger.”</p><p> </p><p>The duo planted explosives on the door. The Agent ordered, “Fireteam two, ready. Breach!”</p><p> </p><p>The blew the doors open and they charged in, blasters blazing. Rice happily allowed Tyla take point,, slowly marching up and scanning her corners. Nothing yet. They found themselves in a U-shaped hallway with five closed doors. She quietly cursed, motioning for Rice to join her take the first door. Rice lifted up a thermal detonator and Tyla nodded, slowly opening the door. Rice rolled the grenade in. The resulting blast blew the door off its hinges. They entered the room, finding multiple dead on the door. Room cleared.</p><p> </p><p>Blaster fire nearly burnt into the back of his head if it weren’t for Agent Finnall. Two Zygerrians were dropped. Rice peered, spying two doors open. He motioned her to get behind and they slowly moved towards the final two doors. One of them opened to the fresher. He shook his head and moved to the last door. The Specialist slowly opened the door, peering in. No targets inside, just a Twi’lek girl on the bed.</p><p> </p><p>He opened the door fully, yet the girl still didn’t move. Rice approached the bedside, checking her pulse. Stable. He snapped his fingers. Unresponsive, or rather somewhat responsive. She lacks the energy to move. Rice muttered, “Poor girl.”</p><p> </p><p>“Indeed.” Tyla said, scanning the slave with her datapad. “She’s clean.”</p><p> </p><p>Rice asked, “What will happen to her?”</p><p> </p><p>No answer. He insisted, training the E-11 on the Agent, “What will happen to her?”</p><p> </p><p>Tyla growled, “I warn you Specialist, I am tolerant of your attitude to only a point. You don’t have to worry about her, she’ll be safe.”</p><p> </p><p>“Define safe.” He challenged.</p><p> </p><p>“Better with us.” She murmured, putting the datapad away, “Trust me.”</p><p> </p><p>“You tell me, can I trust you?”</p><p> </p><p>Tyla asked, “Then what will you have me do, Specialist?”</p><p> </p><p>He said, “Tell command that all the slaves died, give them a ship and tell them to get outta there.”</p><p> </p><p>“I highly doubt any of them are pilots.”</p><p> </p><p>“Then I can fly them.”</p><p> </p><p>“You?” She inquired, raising an eyebrow.</p><p> </p><p>Rice firmly stated, “I’m a spacer, I’m not that bad a pilot myself, I can fly them.”</p><p> </p><p>Tyla dared, “So, you will take me out, claim all the slaves are dead, fly them back to their homes, and return thinking no consequences will become of you? The odds are certainly against you.”</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t care about the consequences, and certainly don’t tell me the odds.” Rice declared. A weak gasp came from the Twi’lek and he was upon her again.</p><p> </p><p>“You are a fool.” She said, a faint grin apparent, “A stupid, reckless, valorous fool.”</p><p> </p><p>Tyla typed in her datapad. A few moments later, she proudly announced, “We have been given permission by Colonel Wullf Yularen himself to escort these imperial citizens back to their homes.”</p><p> </p><p>Rice let out a sigh in relief. “What are the original orders?” He asked, freeing the slave. She whispered, “Classified, I’m afraid.”</p><p> </p><p>“Of course it is.”</p><p> </p><p>——— Wayfaring Stranger———</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>In a daring raid today, soldiers of our brave Imperial Army has taken down a prominent slave ring. Led by an ISB Agent and her three brave soldiers, they rescued over sixty-three slaves where we have been told that they have been returned home, safely and to their families. Shall we give them a great round of applau-</em>
</p><p> </p><p>“Hey, shut that damn thing off!” Rice shouted at the human bartender, who refused.</p><p> </p><p>Horo explained, “It’s against the law to turn off the HoloNet News in public establishments Specialist.”</p><p> </p><p>“Well, it’s a stupid law Sarge. I don’t care about the news, no body cares about the news. I wanna watch my own thing.”</p><p> </p><p>Nyra disagreed, “I actually enjoy watching this HoloNet News. It brings me much amusement.”</p><p> </p><p>Rice grumbled, “Of course you would find something funny in it.”</p><p> </p><p>“Come now Specialist, do you not wish to listen to your greatest achievements?” Tyla said, enjoying her blue-coloured drink. “And your Sergeant is correct, it is against the law to turn off the news in public establishments.”</p><p> </p><p>Rice insisted, “Well, I stand by my belief! It’s a stupid law!”</p><p> </p><p>“Stupid or not, it is not our duty to question the law, but to enforce it.”</p><p> </p><p>The quartet turned to find Lieutenant-Colonel Jado Drimen standing firm, a wide smile on his face. The soldiers stood at attention, a chorus of “Sir” echoed their little cupola. Jado waved his hands down, dismissing them. He began, “I have some goods new and bad news for you.”</p><p> </p><p>Horo asked, “What’s the good news?”</p><p> </p><p>Jado said, “We got some new recruits to fill the ranks.”</p><p> </p><p>“What’s the bad news then?” Rice asked, a little cross.</p><p> </p><p>“You will be working for ISB a little while longer and Section B1C will be filled with new recruits.”</p><p> </p><p>Nyra, shocked, asked, “D-Does that mean you’re…throwing us away?”</p><p> </p><p>Jado shook his head, explaining, “I…owe a favour to Colonel Yularen and you three are some of my best to do it. That, and I need time to reinforce the regiment before we can engage in further battles.”</p><p> </p><p>Rice muttered, “At least you’re honest about it…sir.”</p><p> </p><p>The Lieutenant-Colonel teased, “Problem, Specialist Halle? You sound almost disappointed.”</p><p> </p><p>“I always wanted some vacation time sir, but working with ISB is about the furthest I want to be.” He whined, hiding behind his drink. The Lieutenant-Colonel took it and chugged the contents, much to the Corellian’s disappointment. Jado let out a sigh of relief and said, “Too bad. On the other hand, you will be allowed more freedoms than other units. Uniform, armour, weapons. Whatever you want, you can use.”</p><p> </p><p>Nyra cheered, raising her glass, “Thank you sir!”</p><p> </p><p>Horo joined her, “Thank you sir.”</p><p> </p><p>Tyla added, “Three cheers for Lieutenant-Colonel Drimen!”</p><p> </p><p>Rice grumbled, mourning his empty glass, “Grr…right, thanks…sir.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Dealing with the Locals</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b>Chapter 2: Dealings with the Locals</b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“This is ISB Section B1C, reporting in.” Horo said, pacing back and forth. Rice was examining the staff and trying to figure out how it works while Nyra let him, amused.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Great to hear from you B1C.” Tyla said, patrolling a nearby street with her detachment of ‘Made-in-Lothal’ Stormtroopers. “How is your patrol going?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Horo answered, “So far? Nothing interesting.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Indeed.” She commented, “My patrol has been fruitless as well. Odd, I expected an attack by pirates right now.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The Sergeant sarcastically asked, “Should I be concerned?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Those supplies contain Imperial weapons vital for us to keep the peace.” Tyla replied, the deadpan expression obvious in her voice, “What do you think?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Right.” He said, rolling his eyes, “How about we RTB back at the nearest depot?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“That is most ideal, we’re wasting time here.” The ISB Agent said, “Head to the old depot in Sector A2. I got something to show you.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Roger, we’ll report in when we get there.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Horo barked, “We’re moving!”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Rice asked, “Where to Sarge?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Sector A2, double-time it.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Rice and Nyra dropped the subject for another day and raced to the depot, pushing past the local populace. Sector A2 was a few kilometres outside the city. Geographically, the land were grasslands and fairly hilly, unideal for farming. They spotted the depot in the distance, planted on top of the hill. The walls still stood tall, despite its disuse, as did the central headquarters.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>When they approached closer, they saw the blaster marks, paint marks, and debris scattered around the compound. The ISB’s Stormtrooper escort were taking up positions around the compound, two of which were guarding the entrance. Tyla was inside the compound, investigating the explosive residue, checking her datapad ever so often.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>A Lothal Stormtrooper stopped them, barking, “You are not permitted entrance beyond this point, this is an ongoing Imperial Army Investigation.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Rice snarled, pointing at his shoulder insignia, “We’re Army, <em>mutha acen</em>, now move over.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You are not military, civilian, now move along.” The Stormtrooper replied, pushing Rice back. The Specialist, losing his cool, attempted to lunge on the idiot. Fortunately, Nyra was able to prevent a double murder of the two stormtroopers and began cooling Rice down. Horo rolled his eyes and glared the Stormtrooper down. He stuttered, “S-Sir, p-please step back.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Horo growled, “You. Will. Step. Aside. Stormtrooper. Or would I need to file a report to ISB?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The Stormtrooper coughed, moving aside and letting them pass. Rice grumbled along the way, taking a position around the blast mark. The ISB Agent commented, “Frustrating, isn’t it?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Rice replied, “What in the Nine Hells are they teaching at Lothal?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tyle admitted, “I do not know Specialist. I had requested a retinue of ISB Stormtroopers to assist me.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Let me guess.” Horo began, having an inkling, “They denied your request.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tyla stood up, biting her lips, negotiating her words. “I cannot confirm, nor deny your statement. I can say that they are…considering my request."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Rice snorted, disappointed, “Kriffing, of course.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The ISB Agent sighed, a defeated look on her face. Wordless for several seconds, she finally began, “I…Sergeant Melne…”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Horo took a knee, resting a comforting hand on her shoulder, whispering, “Take a breath to gather your thoughts.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I already have, Sergeant.” She whispered, “I am requesting your assistance on this matter. Every victory these rebels gain, every time they survive and slip our grasps…they will grow stronger, and in greater numbers. I am asking that you help me, help me to investigate and put down this spark, before it grows out of control.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The Imperial Sergeant nodded, patting her shoulder. “Of course.” He said, “We will help you in any way we can.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The two turned to look at Nyra and Rice, who were playing tic-tac-toe on the ground. Horo said, “Just let me handle my Section.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tyla admitted, “At least they are competent.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Listen, how bad is it that the Empire redeployed the Regiment here, especially one at break point?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She answered, “Retaking the Outer Rim has been more problematic that we anticipated. Sentiments of Rebellion is obvious and our hold is tenuous…at best.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Horo wondered, “What is the Governor doing about it?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Nothing.” Tyla scoffed, “Governor Arihanda Pryce spends most of her time on Coruscant, making political alliances. Most of the tasks for the Lothal Sector is handled by Minister Tua.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Poor girl.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Indeed. It is a tough job, especially for someone as ambitious as Governor Pryce. The fact that she gets it done with efficiency and with quality. Speaks a lot of her character.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Rice snorted, overhearing the conversation, “Quality?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tyla reiterated, “In domestic affairs. Unfortunately, she trusts Commandant Aresko and Taskmaster Grint in military affairs.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Nyra commented, “She has made a poor decision in a sea of worst decisions. What an unfortunate woman.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Nothing we can do about it, I’m afraid.” Tyla replied, “Until they slip up, I can’t act against them.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Rice rose an eyebrow, wondering, “What about the production of the Carida Stormtrooper knockoffs?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tyla admitted, “That has bothered me, yes, but the mere presence of these troopers had actually managed to stop more crimes than without, these attacks withstanding of course. They still have their purposes, but will be replaced in the near future.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Horo asked, “Isn’t there anyway to correct their training?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The ISB Agent said, “This isn’t my department. You’ll have to report to Lieutenant-Colonel Drimen about the situation.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Of course.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Apologies.” She said, shrugging. “On other matters, this will act as our Base-of-Operations for the time being.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Rice joked, “Yeah, fix up the wall, spray some fresheners, and clean up the paint and this will be a great place to live.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tyla ignored the comment, massaging her forehead. “Indeed.” She did admit, stating, “For now, we can make a few assumptions to these ‘Spectres’ we are faced against.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Nyra tilted her head, wondering, “What do you mean? All I see is the aftermath of a battle.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The Specialist answered, “True, but the ordinance they used, and the blast marks around tell another story.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Horo rose an eyebrow, demanding, “Explain Dalle.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Right.” He began, “The explosives used to blow open the walls, those were done using a Tarascii Thermal Detonator. They’re known to make star-shaped residue behind each blast. From the walls alone, our ‘Explosives Expert’ uses these types of detonators to do it. The blaster marks are accurate, far too accurate than the ‘Made in Lothal’ but less accurate that Stormtroopers. I think these are civilian weapons, probably a DL-18 type pistol. The other marks that aren’t E-11 types though, I got no idea.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Bo-Rifle.” Tyla said, an amused grin on her face.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Excuse me?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“These blast marks are iconic to those that come from a Lasat Bo-Rifle. They pack a considerable punch.” The ISB Agent reiterated, stepping in front of Rice, wondering, “How in the Galaxy do you know all this, Specialist?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Rice faced off against her, or rather looked down on her from his position seeing as he’s 1.83 metres and she’s 1.65 metres. “I was a teenager once.” He growled, “Even I get curious sometimes.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tyla rose an eyebrow, amused, “Oh yes. I believe you had five counts of arson, three counts of possession of destructive devices, and one count of attempted murder. All of these counts were thrown out due to an astonishing lack of evidence. It seems to me, you had self-incriminated yourself, no?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The Specialist retorted, “I plead the seventh.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You got it right, there you go!” She smugly said, patting his shoulder and pushing past him. The ISB Agent said, “Now, what Specialist Dalle just said was correct. We are faced with a man, late-twenties, and skilled with a blaster…abnormally so. Those explain the DL-18 marks. The second is a Lasat armed with a Bo-Rifle. The third and last suspect is a Mandalorian-“</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“She isn’t a Mando, Agent.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Excuse me?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Rice said, “That was no Mandalorian.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tyla briefly nodded, amending, “A woman wearing Mandalorian Armour then.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Nyra wondered, “How do you know she isn’t Mandalorian? Do warriors of Mandalore that dress like such not become Mandalorian?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sergeant Melne interrupted, “A lesson for another time, I’m sure. Now, we should really get back on topic. Agent Finnall, if you’d kindly.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Grateful, she nodded, hands resting behind her back. “Now, if there are no further interruptions, allow me to continue. Due to your actions, we learnt that the three suspects have escaped via VCX-100 Light Freighter. No name has been registered from such a craft. We can postulate though that this craft and its inhabitants likely know of the weaknesses present with our Stormtroopers and are exploiting it. Compounded by the lax standards of Lothal and little paper work ever being done by the garrison on such events, well…the picture is obvious.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Section B1C and Agent Tyla turned to look at the Stormtroopers going about their business. She sighed, informing, “I have sent an order alerting all imperials in the Lothal Sector to be on the lookout for our VCX-100 vessel. Their orders are to record their location and not to engage. What we need is a better idea of their travels. An area of interest they frequent. With any luck, we may be able to trap them like so.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Nyra muttered, “So that is why she is our superior.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Rice corrected, “Different branch. Very different branch.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tyla smiled, remarking, “I do appreciate her compliments.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Horo sighed, hands on his waist, wondering, “Agent, with all due respect, what is it do you want us to do? Do you want us to help make the base?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The ISB Agent answered, No. Quite frankly, your skills will be wasted there, but I applaud your industriousness. I would appreciate, however, if you accompany me to Garel. Business requests my presence there.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Horo nodded, confirming, “Of course Agent.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I don’t believe you understand me correctly.” She insisted, “You and only you are necessary. Your subordinates may stay and ‘set up shop’ as it were.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Rice protests were immediately shot down by his Sergeant’s glare. He informed, “If it was just me, I cannot guarantee your safety.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Your age is of no issue.” She insists, “And there are no enemies that will threaten us there.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Horo huffed, acknowledging, “Fine. When do we leave?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>———Wayfaring Stranger———</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Horo relaxed in the passenger seat of the Lambda-class T-4a Shuttle, trying to ignore Tyla’s stares. It would have been successful, only if the ISB Agent didn’t ask, “May I ask why you didn’t choose to retire after your service during the Clone Wars?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He grumbled, “I joined for the reason everyone else did, to promote peace and security throughout the galaxy.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Did you not claim you war-weary when recruiters came for you?” She pressed, “I would understand that you were, being as you spent much of your time on the frontline for most of the war. Even when Clone reinforcements arrived, you fought alongside them to liberate your planet and fight on afterwards. Why is that?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I wanted to make sure my planet was free of the Separatists and I wasn’t going to leave it until the job was done.” He replied, a hint of his answer pleading her to drop the subject. Tyla closed her eyes and thought pensively. The T-4a Shuttle reached its destination without any further noise. Once the ramp dropped, the contingent of Lothal Stormtroopers exited the shuttle in parade formation. Horo opted to hover behind the ISB Agent, preferring the overwatch position.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>For whatever the reason, none of the troopers are moving. Tyla asked, “Is there something wrong Lieutenant?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The Stormtrooper Lieutenant answered, “Ma’am, we are waiting for your command.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Very well.” She said neutrally, “Let us go.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Where to ma’am?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She rose an eyebrow, but she didn’t say anything, opting for action. The ISB Agent led the escort, followed by Horo and the Stormtroopers who finally realize they can go. The Sergeant growled, “Lieutenant, I would advise if your men would form a perimeter around Agent Finnall.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The Lieutenant retorted, “You have no authority over me.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“It is fortunate that Sergeant Melne speaks for me, trooper. Do as he says.” Tyla harshly informed, a sudden chill going through all the Stormtrooper’s spines.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Horo quietly commented, “I expected nothing less from an ISB Agent.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Oh?” She queried an unspoken question.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You would be a poor excuse of an ISB Agent if you don’t make people uncomfortable.” He replied, scanning his surroundings.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tyla teased, “Do I make you uncomfortable?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Yes,” was his simple reply, “like I said, what I expect of ISB.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She hummed, amused at the thought. The group marched through the long hallways, but only two noticed how empty the halls are. Question is, why?</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tyla ordered, “Hold.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Blaster fire erupted behind them and in front of them, taking down several Lothal Stormtroopers. Horo went in front of Tyla, firing his weapon while the other Stormtroopers held in their position in the open. The Sergeant looked ahead of him and then behind him. He grabbed the nearest Stormtrooper, barking, “Gather up. We are pushing forward!”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Yes sir!” He said, tapping on his comrade’s shoulder, relaying orders.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The ISB Agent prayed, “I hope you know what you’re doing.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“With knuckleheads like these?” He dryly joked, “We can push forward.”</p>
<p>Tyla warned, “You realize that there is probably another trap, yes?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Sometimes the best strategy is to spring the trap.” He retorted, pointing behind the rebels, “Besides, there’s more cover up ahead.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tyla nodded, arming herself with two RK-3 Blaster pistols and readied to charge. Horo threw a smoke grenade up ahead, shouting at the trooper, “Go!”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Immediately, the team charged into the smoke, coming out the other end, blasting the insurgents at point-blank range. They never stood a chance. Horo pointed to the end of the hallway, ordering, “Head to those boxes, we’re holding out there!”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Yessir!”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tyla charged ahead of them, body tense. A Quarren head popped out, blaster raised. The ISB Agent smirked, dodging the blaster fire and preformed a successful flying kick into the alien’s face. She followed up, jabbing the barrel into the necks of the adjacent terrorists, kicking out their legs and letting gravity knock them out. The Agent threw their bodies out of cover, letting the Stormtrooper retinue take positions behind it. Horo huffed, “Show off.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The ISB Agent smirked. More rebels were coming for them. Those fools. She threw her right arm in the air, cheering, “For the Empire, hold your ground!”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Echoes of, ‘for the Empire’ came from the remaining Stormtroopers, except Horo, who immediately compressed the trigger faster. The Sergeant barked, pointing at a rebel armed with a heavy blaster rifle, “Target, 100 meters, open fire!”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Accuracy, however, was much to be desired. The rebel, undeterred or unafraid, mounted the DLT-19 and fired short bursts. Horo growled at a subordinate, “Who taught you how to shoot?!”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Sorry sir!” The Stormtrooper said, trying to fire at the operator, but forced to take cover. Horo, frustrated, broke out of cover and fired several precise shots at the operator, silencing the gun. He ordered, “Turn on your targeting computers!”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“W-We don’t have targeting computers sir.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“What?!” shouted the Sergeant and the ISB Agent. She took the helmet and put it on her. Tyla was astonished, returning the helmet and firing on an insurgent targeting the stormtrooper. Horo grunted, “I’ll put it on your bucket list, Agent.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Do so,” She snarled, showing off her proficient gunslinging skills. She quickly took cover, checking her datapad. Tyla swore, “Reinforcements have been ambushed by another set of rebels.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Horo grunted, firing on the left flank, tapping troopers to direct their attentions. “You think someone sliced the network?” He wondered, narrowly avoiding a blaster shot.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The Agent growled, “You worry about the enemy you see, allow me to deal with the unknown threat.” Quickly tapping on her datapad, attempting to figure things out. Horo looked to the right flank, spotting a lone Togrutan woman, throwing her arms haphazardly. He took a knee, whispering, “What’s our policy for terrorist commanders?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The Agent stared at Horo, ordering, “Capture.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The Sergeant tapped a Stormtrooper’s shoulder, asking, “You a Corporal?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“No sir, a private. The Corporal is the one beside me sir.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The Corporal asked, “Sir?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Horo ordered, “You’re in charge of the defences until I get back. I’m borrowing two of your troopers.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Yessir!”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The Imperial Army Trooper Sergeant patted two Stormtroopers and got them ready for a charge. The Stormtrooper Corporal threw smoke grenades at all the halls, giving time for Horo and his troopers to throw themselves into the fray, eliminating the nearby terrorists. The Sergeant charged ahead, setting the blaster on stun. The Togrutan, surprised, tripped over herself. The Imperial Army Trooper made no expression, firing the stun ring and capturing her.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He collected her body and ordered, “Fall back to cover.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>They returned to the box fort. The Sergeant bonded her with his cuffs, keeping her in front of him, and retaking command of the defences. The rebels started backing down, running in full retreat. Horo rose an eyebrow, before realizing why they ran. Tyla was holding up the unconscious Togruta and parading her body around like a puppet. The Sergeant raised his goggles onto the helmet, a stern glare directed at her. The Agent wasn’t too bothered by it, dropping the body and informing him, “I believe I had discovered a leak.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Horo sighed, saving the conversation for another day. He sarcastically answered, “Let me guess, some idiot left his station without logging off?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tyla rolled her eyes, stating, “Our idiot is someone with considerable rank and someone who knew of my presence here.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The Sergeant laughed, “You? Agent, I doubt you are <em>that</em> important for the pirates to attack you.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tyla insisted, “I’m very serious. A part of the reason I came here was to make an arrest and if I were to guess…”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Horo wondered, “Make an arrest? Who?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tyla answered, “Simple, the local minister here. Originally, it was for defalcation, gambling, and general corruption. Now, I may add conspiracy against an Imperial Peace Officer.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He said, “I don’t know…”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Trust me.” She said, pointing at the alien, “And she will tell me all I want to know.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The Sergeant warned, “No torture, Agent.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Do you honestly believe me to be some monster, Sergeant?” She asked, curious.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Horo said, “They are Imperial citizens too, Agent. I would prefer if you treat them as such. No cruel or unusual punishments, please.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tyla hinted, eyes narrowed, “You take too much after your Specialist, Sergeant. I warn you to not follow down such a route.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I’m not, Agent.” He said, “With all due respect ma’am, I’m an old Republican soldier. I had fought to uphold its values of freedom. When I laid down my arms, life was hard for me. I didn’t even think about joining the Empire."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Then why did you join?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>There was no response given to her for a long moment. He snapped his fingers, twirling his raised arm in the air. The Stormtroopers formed a larger perimeter around them, creating a wide and flexible perimeter around them. Again, he hesitates to speak, taking off the gasmask from its press studs and sighed. Tyla rose an eyebrow, silently asking him to continue. She emphasized her question, pressing her boot onto the Togrutan’s neck, making her cough and hack.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“…I was given no choice.” He began, finally letting the dam loose, “I either sell my orphanage or I lose it anyways. The company wouldn’t have it either way. When the recruiters came, they promised me that not only would my pension be lucrative, they would buy the orphanage, hire additional care workers, even get some nurse droids. So, whatever fool mind I had, I joined and the army kept its promise. My wife was overjoyed, my sons and daughters were overjoyed.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“So you serve, not out of loyalty to the Empire, but you feel the need to repay a debt.” Tyla said, releasing her hold on the neck. She closed her eyes and sighed, snapping her fingers. Two Stormtroopers approached them and took the bound Togrutan rebel by her arms.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Very well Sergeant.” She said, “I will respect your wishes. The rebel will not be harmed in any cruel or way during my interrogation.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Thank you, Agent Finnall.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Don’t thank me, Sergeant Melne, I had no intentions of torturing her. It isn’t my department.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>———Wayward Strangers———</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Horo and Tyla returned to the new outpost A2 on Lothal after concluding business in Garel. To her surprise, the depot’s re-construction was going fairly well. Rice and Nyra were playing around with the E-Web blaster cannons on each of the blown walls of the HQ. The Specialist turned towards them, waving. He cheered, “Hey! C’mon in! Let me give you the tour! C’mon, c’mon.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Rice jumped down from the E-Web nest, saying, “As you can see, this is the compound of our home. It’s clean, tidy, and 100% rebel-free. Let me show you to the bed-room.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tyla bit down on her amused smirk, replying, “You need not worry yourself, Specialist. I’m rather impressed you managed to do as much as you did. E-Webs, extra-ammunition, food. How did you ever managed to get all of these resources?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Nyra leaned out the hole, shouting, “He had bartered with the supply officer!”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Horo wondered, “How much is this going to cost us?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Rice chuckled, answering, “I already paid outta my own pocket.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tyla insisted, “What did you pay?” Horo backed her up, arms crossed against his chest.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Fine!” He growled, flipping a credit chip into the air and shooting it out of the air with a RK-3 blaster. “So I mighta asked him out for dinner if he gave me those supplies.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The ISB Agent joked, “I never knew took you to bat for the other team. I admit, that is a failure in my intelligence.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Horo teased, unable to contain the smirk on his face, “Congratulations Specialist.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Laugh it up.” He growled, “I’ll get my revenge on you soon enough.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tyla shook her head, stating, “If you can lead me to my office, I have a report to send to my superior.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Yeah, sure thing.” Rice said, looking to Nyra. The Femiskiran native jumped down from her position, grabbing hold of Tyla’s hands. She teased, “Enjoy your mating ritual.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The Specialist threw his arms into the air, heading to his bunk to change. Nyra led the Agent to the War Room and bowed, saying, “I shall stand guard outside while you speak.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The Blonde ISB Investigator gave her a warm smile, patting her shoulder. “Thank you.” She said, “I won’t be long.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tyla opened a channel, the holographic image of the ISB insignia hovering above the war table. A digitized voice echoed throughout the room, “Agent Finnall, you have a report for me?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The ISB Agent smirked, a devious look on her face. “Of course.” She said, “Where shall I begin?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>———Wayfaring Strangers———</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Nyra stripped down, leaving her sports bra and the bottom portion of her body decent. In front of her, laid her ceremonial combat axe and staff in front. She kneeled before it, resting her hands in the middle of her legs, palms up. She started speaking quietly, unfortunately for the regular speaker of the Known Galaxy, her speech sounds almost like if she were covering her mouth and speaking under water. If one were to observe for long, they would feel drawn to her. It was as if her meditative aura wants to gather all the soldiers together and join her in this exercise in patience.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Then again, every time Horo sees it, he starts backing away to find another route. Rice returned moments later, thoroughly exhausted and with obvious kiss marks on his cheek and a sloppy one on his lips. He noticed Nyra, so he takes a seat in front of her and relaxes. The Femiskiran chuckled, wondering, “Was your…date, good?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Rice snorts, “It was. Never doing it again.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She started giggling, collecting her ceremonial weapons and resting her head on the Specialist’s chest. The Corellian accommodated her, muttering, “Laugh it up Nyra.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She did as he asked, her laughter possibly extending throughout the halls. Nyra bit her lips, attempting to calm herself so she could coherently say, “He must have overworked you.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Don’t.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Sorry, sorry.” She said, though it doesn’t sound apologetic, “Honest. Did you enjoy yourself at least?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Yeah, I did.” He muttered, “Thanks for asking.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“It is what friends are for, no?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Rice replied, “Couldn’t have said better myself.”</p>
<p>The doors opened and ISB Agent Finnall stepped out, staring at the two of them. Then she started laughing, patting her thigh. She said, between breaths, “C-Corporal! I-It’s nice of you to join us! Did you enjoy yourself?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I did.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tyla shook her head, amused. Just as quickly, she schooled her features and said, “If you don’t mind, I would like to take Corporal Brenda for a mission.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The Specialist replied, “I don’t control Nyra, Agent. You’ll have to ask her.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Nyra patted Rice’s shoulder, insisting, “I shall be okay.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Rice grumbled, “Fine. Just to let you know, I’m going AWOL for a bit. I need some time alone, some time to think.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tyla rolled her eyes and waved. Rice took it as permission and tipped his head forward. The ISB Agent smiled, taking Nyra by the arm and walking towards the makeshift vehicle depot. Moments later, he heard the sound of a speeder pull out of the compound. The Specialist was alone, and the old man certainly didn’t count as company. He forced himself up, returning to his barracks and opened up his foot locker. He dressed himself down from his uniform, wearing something more comfortable. “You going out again?” Horo asked, leaning against the doorway.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Yeah.” Rice let out a breath, answering, “I’m meeting…a few friends.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Horo grumbled, “Let me guess, you are making a conspiracy.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Ha! Three of us means we’re going to win!” He replied, letting out a bark of laughter. “But no, it’ll only be one of me, and two others.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The Sergeant jaw dropped, coughing, “Oh.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The Corellian smirked, quietly closing the door. When he opened the door again, he was wearing a white collared shirt with rolled up sleeves, second-class Corellian Bloodstripes, a utility belt with small pouches, and a catch vest. In his holster was a HL-27 Blaster Pistol, a favoured weapon of High Ranking CorSec Officers. On his back was a DLT-19X Sniper Rifle. His skin was covered in bandages. He even covered his eyes with black speeder goggles. Horo often wondered why he would cover himself up, but buried the question like he always did. He can do as he wished, as long as it doesn’t hurt the Empire.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I’ll be back in a bit.” Rice claimed, “I need some time to think.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Horo laid a hand on his Specialist. “Rice.” He said, “Be careful and don’t do anything stupid. You’re a good soldier, a good man. Don’t waste your life.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Trust me Sarge, you deserve someone more than me.” He retorted but didn’t throw the hand off.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The Sergeant shook his head, replying, “I’d like no one else in my section. I don’t know what happened to you that made you like this but know that I’m here for you. All you gotta do is knock.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Thank you…Horo.” He muttered, patting the hand off. He entered the vehicle depot and took a speeder bike back into the city. The Corellian parked the bike at a nearby station, locking it down before walking off into the night of the city. What’s a meeting between friends, right? Old Jho’s Pit Stop, the local cantina that he found himself partial to when patrolling. It’s run by an Ithorian who’s friendly enough to all who enter, he even switches channels to something besides the Imperial broadcasts.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Hey,” He called the old alien, “How are things?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Things are going a little slow but well enough, thank you.” He said, quickly wondered, “Sorry, I don’t believe I recognize you.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Name’s Rice.” He said, taking a seat, “I got two others coming in shortly. Mind if you start us off with two beers and Tihaar?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Sure.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The Corellian took the alcohol and laid them out on the table. He sighed and rubbed his forehead. A blaster pistol barrel bumped against the right side of his head. “Well, well. Rice Dalle.” The man said, grin on his face, “Last I saw you, you left me for dead.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Rice snorted, “Really, you sure it wasn’t the other way around, old friend?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Perhaps.” The Twi’lek chuckled, wondering, “But I got a blaster to your head, and something tells me, you aren’t going to tell your tale.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Aren’t I?” The sound of metal on metal was heard and the Twi’lek finally spotted the HL-27 trained on him from below. The green skinned alien started laughing, holstering his blaster pistol and cheered, “Rice, you old pirate, it’s great to see you!”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Rice stood up and hugged his friend. “You too Na’Fenna. How’s the family?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“They’re doing fine.” Na’Fenna replied, taking a seat, “Heard you were on the news. You saved a bunch of my people from slavery. I’m grateful to you.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Rice retorted, “Don’t thank me. Not like I found them.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You still have my gratitude nonetheless.” He said, leaning into the chair, “So, what’s the job?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“It’s not my offer. She’ll be coming soon.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The Twi’lek grinned. “She?” He said, “How’d you manage to pick up girls?</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Rice snorted, answering, “I can pick them better than you can. Remember the one on Raxus Secundus? I thought I’d had to call an ambulance after what she did to you.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The two shared a laugh, though Na’Fenna was unconsciously stroking one of his lekku. The Twi’lek asked, “But seriously, didn’t the client tell you what the haul is?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“If you’d promise to be silent about it, maybe I will.” she warned, the voice modulator making her voice boom. The duo turned towards the door, seeing the Mandalorian lean against the entrance. She threw herself off it, taking a seat and resting a clenched fist on the table. The woman was almost as tall as Rice and she wore black and orange painted armour, something Rice knew not to mess around with her. She said, “Now, if you boys are still interested, are you ready to listen?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Rice slid the tihaar to the Mandalorian, letting her scoop it up. She took her helmet off and downed it one shot. The Twi’lek whistled, admiring the Zabrak female for downing the strong stuff. The Corellian on the other hand rests his weary legs on the table, kindly demanding, “What’s the plan Madi? What does Clan Sharrett want with us smugglers?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Madi slapped the glass onto the table, a devious smirk on her face.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hello, all<br/>This is Vumanchu and thank you for taking the opportunity to read chapter one of Wayfaring Strangers.<br/>I appreciate it truly.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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